


Hugging the Basterds Feels Like. . .

by warmommy



Category: Inglourious Basterds
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-14 06:29:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13584249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/warmommy/pseuds/warmommy
Summary: Just what it says.





	Hugging the Basterds Feels Like. . .

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! You can find this and a lot more at my tumblr, warmommy.tumblr.com!

**HUGO STIGLITZ**

This right here is probably the closest thing to a hug the guy has ever had in his life. After everything he has done, after everything that has been done  _to him_ , the barrier that forbade hugging and all such vulnerabilities in contact was his last bastion of protection. Hugs were a never, never, ever thing until long after your relationship began. Hugging is far more intimate than sex (or what sex was like in the beginning) for him, and he could never just open his arms to someone if his heart did not belong to them. Hugging Hugo Stiglitz (for the first time especially) feels emotionally raw and so satisfying. It feels like love and life itself. When he hugged you for the first time, it was a silent question, a hopeful prayer that you wouldn’t abandon him. It went on for long, long minutes, and you realised he was shaking a bit, and you yourself shed more than a few tears. It’s just completely pivotal.

**DONNY DONOWITZ**

Hugging Donny feels like  _home_. All it takes is that one squeeze between his big, sweaty arms, the lug, and it takes you back five thousand miles across the ocean to a time and a place before he was the Bear Jew. He was just Donny back then, not a very complicated guy, but fun, a smartass, and secretly great at cuddling. Every time you walked into the Donowitz home, you were greeted with hugs, from both his Ma and him. When he hugs you now, you think about his mother pulling you into her kitchen, the smell of the best fried chicken you ever ate in your life, Gloria making coffee on the stove, henpecking at Donny every third or fourth word. Hugging him is a reminder that home is still waiting for you, all the way back there. Donny hugs are the best of hugs, and that guy fuckin’ means it when he hugs, too.

**WILHELM WICKI**

Wicki hugs just feel plain safe. When you first met, he seemed standoffish, but that couldn’t have been further from the truth. From the first time he draped his arm around your shoulders and made fun of how tiny you are, it felt like a cloak of protection, which has become just about the most valuable thing in the world. What’s best is he will absolutely hug just about any time. Sometimes you get the sense that he needs it, too, and why wouldn’t he? The world turned out to be a shitty place where shitty people do shitty things to each other. Sure, he’s a big guy, and he can carve up a Nazi with the best of them, but Wicki is anchored in his faith and his humanity, and all of this is still hard on him. Something was wrong, one day, or just off, but you wound up getting closer to Wicki while you were supposed to be guarding prisoners. One of them laughed and said something in creaking German, and Wicki shot the top of his head off, no hesitation. He never told you what it was, just wrapped one bloody arm around you and waited for new orders.

**ALDO RAINE**

At first, hugging him really turned you on. You never thought that a goddamn hug would do it for you before, but there are kinda special circumstances. For one, he never hugged you until one night he had you all wrapped up in his arms and took you upstairs and  _ohhhh Lord_. From that time on, for a while anyway, every time you wound up in Lieutenant’s arms, felt them around you, smelled his skin and hair, it just made blood flow south. Things change, though, usually not for the better, but this was. His hugs started coming left and right, tiny ones, arms over shoulders, big squeezes, everything, so they became normal and less sexualised. That absolutely does not mean that he won’t take you on the other side of that bridge and fuck you six ways from Sunday, though. 

**GEROLD HIRSCHBERG**

His hugs are warm and cosy. They’re just the thing for frigid ass French springs and winters. You two will post up by the fire, pouring each other cups of coffee, get all hugged up, and talk your way quietly through watch. You hug and it feels like bubbles of happiness rising up like laughter. He’s such an easy person to be around and to talk to, in that stupid beret. Hugs with Hirschberg are marvelously uncomplicated, and it never even occurs to either of you not to be all tangled up at rests. You’ll be splayed out on the ground, limbs all tangled up, reading letters from home aloud to each other, talking shit, telling stories about Connecticut and Alabama, and manage to have a really good time out in the middle of enemy territory.

**SMITHSON UTIVICH**

When the word came about your brother dying in the Pacific, you hurtled into the nearest set of arms, utterly inconsolable. Luckily for you, those arms happened to belong to the sweetest, most patient guy in the whole world. After a few minutes, he shifted slowly so that the two of you were settled on the ground and he adjusted how he was holding you and let you go. Somehow, he knew all the best things to say, though you knew he was an only child. In that kind, soft voice of his, he told you that your brother was never going to be forgotten, that he loved you very much, and that he was a real American hero. Uti didn’t know anything about your brother, of course, not even his name, but it was just that he was willing to say such nice things and be there for a remote stranger. His hugs feel like comfort and solace, even when you feel like the last candle against the dark got blown out too quick.

**OMAR ULMER**

Omar’s hugs feel like good times. You’ll be walking into a village in formation in the middle of the night and Omar will squeeze you tight in one arm and scream out to the entire village that tonight he’s getting you  _laid_. He is, hands down, without a doubt, one of the best people you’ve ever know, the actual funniest person you’ve ever met, and when hugs are involved, you’re up to no good. That night of the horrible Serbian moonshine? Hugs. When you got your asses chewed out and handed to you because you accidentally poured an entire bottle of wine on the lieutenant? You bet your ass it began with a hug.


End file.
